What If Tommy Merlyn Had Gotten on the Queen's Gambit?
by 1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam
Summary: What if Tommy Merlyn had gotten on the Queen's Gambit with Oliver? This is a story of the aftermath of Oliver escaping the island. It includes an adaptation of the first flashback of 1x01 and the last flashback of 5x23. I hope you enjoy! Review if you'd like!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters and plotline do not belong to me. I took much of the dialogue directly from the show, but anything you do not recognize is my own dialogue. This may be an AU, but most of the storyline belongs to the DC universe, and the CW channel.

The forest vibrates around the two men as they race towards their freedom and rescue. Oliver takes the most direct route, throwing himself off the branches of the surrounding trees, and clambering up the rocky side of a hill. Tommy takes the lesser known path, around the rocky hillside, and into the thick shrubbery surrounding the shoreline.

As Oliver finds his bow and stash of arrows, Tommy secures himself in the shrubbery, ready to fight or flee. Ollie might trust Anatoly's word, but they hadn't been alone on the island when they'd returned. And that meant that the ship coming might not be there to help them.

Even after five years in hell, Oliver was still a bit more naïve than Tommy, something owed solely to the sheltering brought upon him by the Queens. But, Tommy could not deny that Oliver was a much better shot with the bow than him. And so, he lay in wait for Ollie's signal of safety.

The stack of wood on the beach blew up with the fire arrow that Ollie had planted earlier, and Tommy steadied his breath, waiting for the ship to make its move. And move it did. The ship quickly made its way to the shore of the island, where it docked and its inhabitants got off to search the shoreline for islanders.

Ollie stepped out onto the shore in front of the Chinese fishermen, his pre-determined signal of safety. Tommy stepped out of the shrubbery, just a few feet from the fishermen. The fishermen didn't seem to know what to do for a moment, before Oliver collapsed on his knees and removed his hood. Tommy remained standing, just an arm's length away from his best friend.

Oliver lifted his face slowly, unsure if he would be recognized, even as Tommy stared the fishermen down defiantly.

The fishermen brought the two men on board their ship, prodding each for answers. All the response they got was a soft request to be taken home, to Starling City in America. This seemed to satisfy the two fishermen to an extent, because they left the two castaways mostly alone after that.

They delivered a phone to the two, then retreated to sail to China's mainland.

The two castaways shivered at the sight of the phone, even under their warm blankets. Eventually the blonde gripped the phone just a bit tighter and dialed a number. The two seemed to agree about the number, the dark-haired man even managing a soft smile as the blonde typed. The two fishermen could not have been more confused by the two men if they'd tried.

Oliver's call only rang for several seconds before Moira picked up. The conversation that brought light back into Oliver, after years of only darkness began with a simple, "Hello? Who is this?"

Tommy's face crumbled at the sound of Moira's voice, and Oliver's face transformed into a sob.

Oliver uttered the words he'd been missing for the past five years, for the first time. "Mom… it's, it's Oliver." Tommy gripped the edges of his blanket tightly, even as he squeezed his best friend's arm as tightly as he could manage.

Then came the dreaded response, that each had believed would come. "My son has been dead for five years. Please don't call here ag—"

Oliver cut his mother off before she could finish breaking their hearts even further. "Mom, Mom, please just listen to my voice… It's Oliver. I did not die on the Gambit. I'm alive. I'm okay."

"Oliver?" Came Moira's gasping response, unable to believe the truth of her son's words. He was alive, he said he was okay. She was hearing her son for the first time in five years, and he was alive again. She couldn't believe it. "Oliver, is that you?"

Tommy let out a short sob, as Oliver pushed through his own tears to speak once again. "Yeah, Mom, it's me. Just please don't hang up, okay?" He rushed through his words, as if afraid that, even knowing it was her son, alive once more, Moira would hang up.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Moira quickly denied that she would ever hang up on her son. "Oh, my beautiful boy." She managed to gasp out, amidst her tears. "Is—is your father alive?" She asked, afraid of the answer, but still forcing herself to ask her son.

Oliver and Tommy exchanged pained looks, filled with regret and guilt. A long pause fell between them, before Oliver answered, "No. No. He—he, um. He and Sara didn't make it." Moira gave a great sob at his words, trying to clench her mouth shut so her son wouldn't have to suffer her grief as well.

"Oliver…" she whispered softly, carefully. "Is Tommy—what about Tommy? Is Tommy alive? Is he okay?" She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for more bad news.

Oliver and Tommy exchanged glances, and Ollie handed Tommy the phone, fumbling with the side of his blanket in his haste to hand it over.

Tommy grasped the phone as if it were a lifeline, and put it against his ear. "I'm okay. I'm alive, Moira. I made it off the Gambit." Moira gave another loud gasp through the phone, and more tears came to her eyes. Her son had lost his father, but he had remained at his best friend's side these last five years. She could've asked for nothing more than Oliver having someone by his side.

"Oh, sweethearts, I can't imagine what you've been through. Where are you?" She sniffled, trying to get back on track, to get her boys back home as soon as possible.

Tommy handed the phone back to Oliver quickly, with a significant glance his way.

"I-I'm not entirely sure, but I'm—I'm on a boat. I love you, and—and I'm coming home, all right?" Ollie gasped through the last few words.

Moira gave another giant sob, and gasped out, "Oh! I love you! Oliver, I love you so much. T-Tommy, I love you too, sweetheart. Please come home. T-Tell me when you reach land. Oh, Oliver, I love you, so much!"

Both Queens quietly sobbed, as the two men gripped each other's arms in a vice-like grip. The fishermen tried to discretely watch the two, well after Moira had hung up. But, they stopped when the blonde gave them such a murderous glare that they swore his eyes might've burst into flames.

One of the fishermen braved the glare and gave warm mugs of some liquid more delicious than anything the castaways had tasted in quite a while, to the two men. After that the only sounds that were heard on the ship was the quiet sipping of the mugs, the whispers of the two fishermen to each other, and the crash of the waves and water against the side of the ship.

Each time a particularly loud crash of the waves sounded, the castaways tensed against each other, under their blankets, and the dark-haired man began picking away at his blanket. It was unusual to say the least, but nothing out of the ordinary for castaways, at least in the eyes of the fishermen.

Hours later, the boat reached the coast of China, at Shanghai. The fishermen unloaded their cargo, both the fish they'd caught, and the men they'd rescued. The blonde spoke quietly with them, and the fishermen agreed to part with their blankets, so the castaways would have something warm at the American Consulate of Shanghai.

Then, with an almost imperceptible nod to the fishermen, the men set off toward the Consulate.

Organizing a trip back to Starling City, through the Consulate took as long as one might expect, even if you are the heirs to billion-dollar companies in the United States. The castaways spoke quietly, and quickly with the other men they met with American representatives. Eventually, their trip home was organized, and the two were on their flight back to Starling City.

The two men never separated long from each other, and even fell asleep against each other on the flight back.

Even though they were only a few hours away from home physically, the two men were anything but.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Someone requested Malcolm's reaction to Tommy being onboard the Queen's Gambit, so here you are! Side-note: I don't know if the school Oliver dropped out of/got kicked out of right before the Gambit was Princeton or not, but it's usually what I hear from this time of Oliver's life, so that's what I'm going with. Correct me if I'm wrong and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters or plotlines. The main plotline belongs to the CW channel and DC universe.

Malcolm Merlyn growled as he completed his signatures on the last of the stacks on his desk. He'd been prepared to return home hours ago, but his assistant had procured yet another mess of papers for him to return to.

He needed to return home, to ensure that the Gambit had truly gone down "with the storm". With Tommy still living in the same house, he was sure to receive a heart-broken boy, begging for his best friend back, as soon as he returned home.

Scoffing at his son's utter lack of competence in every area of his life, Malcolm returned his pen to its proper drawer and rose from his seat. He hurriedly placed each of the stack of papers into their correct files within the filing cabinet.

The former assassin stalked out of the room, pausing only to give a quick nod to his assistant, indicating that his presence was no longer needed in the office. His assistant began scrambling for his personal items, even as Malcolm stepped out into the corridor that led to the elevator.

Without waiting for his assistant, given that the man usually found reasons to remain at the office until quite late, even if Malcolm himself was no longer there, Malcolm stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level.

Leaning back against the cold metal of the elevator, he gave a large sigh. He called his personal driver on the way down to the ground level of Merlyn Global. Getting out of the office as quickly as possibly was necessary, to ensure the fate of the Gambit. So, he rushed outside without preamble, once he'd reached the ground floor.

As he was driven home, he called Frank Chen, who told him that the bomb had been placed in a position where the Gambit was least structurally sound. Satisfied, he hung up before he had to listen to anymore of Frank's uncertainty. The man didn't want to kill Robert Queen, but he would have to if he wished for himself and his family to be safe from Malcolm's associate.

The car reached the heart of the city just as he received an alert from Moira. It was an incoming call from the Queen matriarch.

"Malcolm," she greeted as soon as he'd picked up her call.

"To what do I owe the please, Moira?" Malcolm asked.

"The boys both went with Robert on his trip with the Gambit. Oliver told Robert and I that he'd been kicked out of Princeton. I just wanted to inquire whether Tommy had similar issues? He was looking rather guilty when he boarded with Robert, but both the boys told Robert and I that Tommy had your permission to go with Oliver. I'm sure the boys didn't lie about your permission! Any idea why Tommy would look guilty?"

As soon as Malcolm heard that his son had boarded the Gambit, he froze. His son, no… His last connection to Rebecca, he had to call Frank, he had to—

"Malcolm? Moira asked, concerned, "Are you still there?"

Malcolm cleared his throat loudly, "No, I'm not aware of any educational issues with Tommy. Nor does he have my permission to accompany Oliver and Robert on the Gambit."

Moira gave a small gasp. "Are you all right, Malcolm? You sound a bit anxious. I'm sure the boys will be just fine. They'll arrive in China within days and you can return Tommy to Starling as soon as they cast anchor. I apologize for assuming he had your permission, they both just looked so eager to be away from Starling that I—"

"No, he's—they're going to be fine, Moira. I have to go." Malcolm replied, cutting Moira off. He hung up before the matriarch could get in another word.

Immediately, he called Frank back.

"Malcolm? I was just about to inform you. It's done, the bombs have been detonated. The Gambit is going down." Frank's trembling voice answered the phone before Malcolm could get a word in.

" _No_ ," Malcolm whispered, searching for his second phone, which held the data of the bomb he'd had Frank place on the Gambit. Opening the data, he saw it read, DETONATED.

"Oh, God no, _Tommy_. This is the Queens' fault. They never should've let—" Malcolm began muttering under his breath, before cutting himself off and telling his driver to step on it. He had to charter a jet. He had to get to the coordinates where the Gambit was sinking at that very moment. His son depended on it.

"Malcolm?" Came the irritating voice of Frank Chen once again, "Are you all r—" Malcolm promptly hung up on him, already dialing the number of a friend in the Coast Guard before the echo of Frank's voice had faded from the backseat of the car.

All it took was a, "Hello? Malcolm?" before the Merlyn patriarch began ordering his friend to set up a search of the area surrounding the coordinates. He no longer cared that Robert didn't want any part of the Undertaking, he was getting his son back. Even if it took giving away his part in the sinking of the Gambit.

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Several hours later, Malcolm was going out of his mind. His SON, his Tommy, was out there, somewhere. Maybe dead. And it would be all because of the Undertaking. God, why didn't Frank stop him before he attempted to MURDER his best friend.

It was—it was all the Queens' faults. Robert had forced his hand. He'd been forced into killing his own best friend before Robert betrayed him. And Oliver, Robert's degenerate son… he had corrupted Tommy. He had been corrupting his son for years, and Malcolm had done nothing to stop it. Tommy never would've been in harm's way if not for the Queens.

His son would still be with Malcolm if he'd never befriended Oliver Queen. He would surely be alive, Malcolm would know exactly where his son was. Now, he had no idea how to continue the search.

His friend in the Coast Guard had been helpful in everything except finding the exact location of his son's whereabouts. All he'd told Malcolm was what Malcolm already knew. There had been a storm, an easy explanation for why the Gambit would've shipwrecked. But the storm had passed, and now Malcolm had no idea where the Gambit would've gone down.

For all his resources, his money, his infamy, he couldn't find one twenty-two-year-old lost at sea. His only son was still missing, even presumed dead, according to the Queens, because Malcolm couldn't FIND him.

The Queens had been informed by a different contact in the Coast Guard, a lawful one, that their world would be changed forever. Moira had called him minutes ago, sobbing that her husband and son were gone. That Tommy was gone, and she was _sorry_. As though sorry meant anything in the world of the elite. He would never forgive the Queens. He couldn't.

His boy was gone—Tommy was gone. Malcolm didn't care about the Queens' loses, his son was dead because Robert had felt he'd known best and planned to betray Malcolm. It was disgraceful.

His son deserved a better death than cannon fodder in Malcolm's plan for the Glades. His son had deserved to _live_. And now he wouldn't, because of the Queens.

Note: Hi all! Hope you enjoyed the second installment of these fic! Just know that Malcolm's train of thought here is NOT my opinion. I wrote Malcolm as a parent but one who thinks he is blameless. Malcolm accepting that Tommy sinking with the Gambit is his fault is extremely OOC for him, so I wrote him in a different way. Review if you'd like!


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